


al dente

by undread



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Blood and Injury, Friends to Lovers, Graphic Description, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Violence, Violent Thoughts, Wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 11:14:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27470107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undread/pseuds/undread
Summary: al dente, just firm enough to chew onbiting in you'd make me grin, but could it besomething real unnatural, like honesty?
Relationships: Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 77





	al dente

**Author's Note:**

> spare me if this is strange fellas i wrote it 2 am - 5 am motivated by pure spite (?)

"I wanna break your fucking teeth," Mondo says one day, to nobody. That's not entirely true. The room was empty, but there was definitely a fucking target. 

"I wanna break your fucking teeth." He repeats, louder this time. "I wanna stomp your head into the sidewalk. I wanna slam you into a locker and lock you in one and no one will fucking find you cause everyone hates you." 

Rude, yes, but it wasn't a lie. Mondo knew how much everyone hates his target. He hates his target. He's pretty sure he does, at least, because no other emotion could possibly describe this absolutely dreadful ache searing through his chest. "Everyone hates you," he repeats, as if he thinks his invisible target can hear him. "Got that? No one loves you. Probably not even your family. Everyone hates you." 

Mondo wants to punch something. Mondo wants to punch something bad, but he can't. "I wanna shove you against a fucking wall and punch you until your nose bleeds. You smile so much, you piece of shit, I wanna see your mouth bleed, too." 

He can imagine it- that stark black hair with a black shiner to match, his nose broken, his mouth bleeding so much it spills on the floor. He freaks out about it spilling on the floor- doesn't even notice he's hurt, cause now the floor is really fucking dirty. He's a fucking moron. He's an idiot and a piece of shit and a moron and Mondo can't stop fucking thinking about him. 

"Fuck you," he spits. Still, no one is there. 

The biker figures he's done screaming at nothing for now, leaving his dorm room. He hates this shitty school and he hates the dorms and he hates that he's pretty fucking sure he's late to class. He gets to his classroom and the teacher is well into a lesson. Some students are asleep and some are paying attention, and there he is, he's looking at the teacher, then at Mondo. He raises his hand, says something to the teacher and steps out. There he is, in all his glory. Mondo is struggling to not beat the shit out of him right now. He looks at Mondo all disappointed, he is disappointed. 

"I thought you said you wouldn't be late anymore. You're thirty minutes late at least," he says, like Mondo is an idiot and doesn't know that, and the way he's frowning Mondo can see his teeth and god he wants to fucking break his teeth. He wants to ruin this fucking hall monitor, he wants to see him drop to the floor. 

"I just didn't feel like getting up today," Mondo explains, and it's a shitty excuse but he doesn't really have another one. He couldn't tell the shorter what he was actually doing, cause he'd be terrified, and it's frankly an even _worse_ excuse. 

He shakes his head and Mondo feels a pang in his chest- is he actually upset he disappointed this loser? They're friends, yeah, maybe, he thinks, but he's still a fucking loser. He's still a waste of air and space and time and Mondo wants to punch him, he wants to feel his fist meet the kid's fucking face and he almost does it, he can feel his arm tensing up but he lets go. He isn't sure why, but he lets go. The images are running through his mind, this kid beaten the hell up, his perfect white uniform getting stained- 

His look of betrayal knowing that the person he considered his closest and only friend just decked him out of nowhere. 

Mondo doesn't really wanna punch him anymore. The anger wears off, at least then. The blackette writes him a detention slip and he takes it and it's like, the third one he's gotten that week but whatever. More time with him and the hall monitor. 

Detention isn't particularly interesting when there's more than one person being detained. If Saionji or Kuwata end up in the room, then it's just an hour of being silent and drawing on the paper you're supposed to use to write about how what you did was wrong. Luckily, it's just Mondo today. 

"I'm really upset with you, Mondo." As if that wasn't obvious. "You promised me you would try harder, and I understand growth isn't linear, but..." 

He yammers on. It's fucking depressing, listening to him go on and on about how he feels hurt by Mondo being late. He's talking, and talking, and talking, and- 

"Do you wanna know why I was _actually_ late?" Mondo says, interrupting the prefect and stopping him in his tracks. 

"Yes, Mondo, I _actually_ would." He doesn't mention that Mondo kinda sorta lied to him. 

"I was thinking about beating the shit out of you, Taka." 

Neither of them say anything. Time is frozen, almost, but it's not actually. Mondo is breathing, and it looks like Taka is breathing. He takes a gulp, a big one, cause he wasn't really expecting to hear that and Mondo doesn't blame him for being taken aback. Mondo expects Taka to be scared, or just ignore him and tell him to write the paper, maybe formally declare that they aren't friends anymore. 

"Why?" Is all that Taka asks, and it kinda pisses Mondo off. Everything about Taka pisses him off, lately. 

"I don't fucking know, okay?" Mondo says, and it's only a little honest. "Whenever I look at you, my chest fucking hurts, bad. Like, an ache, a searing pain. So I think that I hate you. But I thought we were friends, and I like you and I wanna be friends with you, so I get confused and I get pissed off more." 

Taka processes the information slowly, his eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at Mondo. "My chest hurts looking at you too," he admits, and he sounds really fucking guilty about it. "I don't think it's hate though. I could never hate you." 

"I just confessed to fantasizing about beating you into a pulp." 

The blackette looks away again. "Still, I don't hate you." There's a silence, and Taka still hasn't looked back at Mondo. Said biker is... confused, more than anything. He doesn't really want to contemplate what else the burning in his chest could be, and luckily Taka speaks up again before he has to. "What do you think about?" 

"What?" 

"When you think about beating me up," Taka elaborates, "what do you think about doing?" 

It's a weirdish question, but fuck it, Mondo's confessed so much already, what does it matter? "I think about breaking your teeth. A lot." Taka doesn't immediately respond, so he continues. "Something about your smile. I hate it. Or I think I do. I wanna get rid of it, I want to see your mouth have more blood in it than teeth." 

"That's probably not possible," the prefect answers, like Mondo didn't just say he hated his smile and wanted to make his mouth bleed. "I like your smile. It makes me happy. I haven't seen it recently," which there was a reason for, "but I really love it when I do see it." 

God, Mondo fucking hates him. He thinks. He isn't sure what he hates or what he likes anymore but that ache in his chest is back and it _stings,_ worse than ever. "I think about shoving you into a locker and leaving you there. No one would find you. I wouldn't come back for you." 

"You wouldn't?" 

"No. I dunno. Maybe. Probably, actually, I would." 

"You want me out of your life?" 

"That's the thing, I want you in my life. You just make me so fucking angry. You know how I get when I'm pissed, I get violent." Mondo buries his face in his hands, his fingers pulling at his pompadour. It's gonna come undone and he cares a little bit but he's stressed, more than anything. "I don't know if it's anger anymore, though." 

Taka looks back at Mondo, finally, after what felt like an eternity. "We should be getting back to our dorms now," he says, and he grabs his notebooks. Mondo is about to yell at him, to say _don't you fucking leave in the middle of this conversation,_ but Taka continues. "I'll walk with you. I have a proposal." 

Mondo grabs the piece of paper, crumples it and throws it in the trash can. He's never turned in one of those papers and he's not going to. He throws his- empty, actually- backpack over his shoulders and waits for Taka. "What kind of proposal?" 

"Hit me," the hall monitor says, "Just once. Get a taste for it. It might help." 

"You're fucking joking, right?" Mondo can't really believe that Taka suggested that, but part of him can at the same time. "You're not a fucking masochist or some shit, are you? What the hell." 

"I'm serious," he states, and oh god he is. "One hit, as much power as you can muster, anywhere you choose." 

He smiles that big smile of his, and Mondo knows it's probably just to rile him up and _god_ it's working. He doesn't know if he wants to anymore, but he decks Taka in the jaw as hard as he possibly can. If Taka was smaller, he would have gone flying and probably broken a bone, but luckily Taka only stumbles back a little, clutching the area hit. "How did that feel?" He asks, and it's a mix of emotions. Good, because punching is cathartic, and bad, because he's just now realizing he really didn't want to actually hit Taka. 

"Bad," he chooses, and Taka smiles, his mouth bleeding a little, just like Mondo thought he wanted. "Why the hell did you say I should hit you?" 

"Do you hate me?" The shorter asks, still smiling. 

"No, I don't fucking hate you you masochist," and it's then that it really clicks for him. Everything seemed to come together, all at once. The false hatred. The punch. That ache in his chest that got worse as his anger was released. "You son of a bitch." 

The love that he held. 

It all clicked. 

Mondo doesn't even think before latching his hand to Taka's neck harshly, and the blackette gasps as Mondo pulls him closer. "You coulda just told me," he said, glaring down into Taka's brught red eyes. "You coulda just fucking told me. I didn't need to hit you." 

"Maybe I wanted to get hit," Taka replies, and there's something different in his voice, something mischevious. It's new, and Mondo likes it, that he's sure of. 

"You are a fucking masochist," he spits, and his and Taka's lips connect and it feels like fireworks are going off in his brain, and god that's cliche but he doesn't really care. The biker presses deeper into the kiss and Taka presses back and his tongue grazes over Taka's lower lip and that bastard _whines._

The prefect pulls back for a moment. "We- We shouldn't do this in the hall," he whispers, "It's- it's inappropriate." 

"Good thing we're going to the dorms then, huh?"


End file.
